


He Doesn't Seem to Stay Dead...

by clipper782



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-Twin Suns, Redemption, Resurrection, Spirit Magic, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clipper782/pseuds/clipper782
Summary: Obi-Wan returns home to find that, perhaps not so surprisingly, Maul isn't dead. More surprising are the apparent terms of his resurrection - he must stay by Obi-Wan's side and not attempt to harm him.Sounds like torture for the both of them, honestly. Right?
Relationships: Darth Maul & Qi'ra, Ezra Bridger & Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Qui-Gon Jinn & Darth Maul, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It isn't very long for a first chapter... But it'll do.

“Bury me in sand why don't you? Ugh what other option is there in this place? But it is such a _bitch_ to clean out of my servos and another thing, it _hurts_. It shouldn't hurt, but it does.”

He had been gone for maybe a few hours tops. It had been a... he would say a difficult day, but it was longer than a day at least. It had been draining. Emotionally. So much for being a Jedi Master. But living in exile he didn't have to do much keeping in check nowadays. 

He was unprepared for the Sith Lord to be sitting in his living room with his tools, digging sand out of the metallic creases on his prosthetic legs. Of course he'd buried him before he'd left, because he was dead, and that's the least you can do when someone is dead. No proper Jedi funeral of course, that would be insulting and would attract raiders.

“Also I ate your beans. They tasted terrible.”

Perhaps he should have known killing him wouldn't work. It never had before. But it wasn't like he hadn't seen... held the _body_. Maul was _dead_ dead. And now he... Wasn't. That wasn't normal.

“Is this some sort of... Sith magic?”

“Do you think I would know? The last time I dabbled in dark magic I nearly got myself - _and my apprentice_ \- killed.” The rogue Sith jumped up suddenly, causing Obi-Wan to instinctively reach for his saber. Not that that had apparently done much good the first time. Second time. Some people just had a lot of difficulty staying dead. “Ezra! He's... He's not here is he?” He seemed to calm and deflate as quickly as he'd risen. “He's gone now isn't he?”

“He... Left, yes.” From what he knew, the young Padawan was already far from here. “You shouldn't have brought him here in the first place.” He shouldn't have _come_ here in the first place.

“Did he... Say anything about me?”

“Only that you were dangerous and he didn't want to be bothered by you anymore.”

“Liar.” But Obi-Wan could tell the other man knew he spoke the truth. “Ezra adores me. He's waiting for me. He's my apprentice.”

“You don't really believe that.”

“Shut up, Kenobi!”

It was somewhat surreal, having a man who had just hours earlier died in his arms, yelling at him in his living room over an open toolbox and an empty can of beans. Especially since that man was Maul. Was he going to try to attack him again, or had he accepted that he would lose? He supposed if he was going to attack again he'd have laid a trap or tried to surprise him when he returned from the Lars Homestead. Since he hadn't, it was a bit more difficult to tell what Maul wanted here.

“You don't know anything. You're just an old Jedi fool.” He spoke the word 'Jedi' about the way one would expect him too. But old? That was uncalled for. 

“Are you even younger than I am?”

“Of course I am.” But he did not elaborate any further. Even if he was it wasn't like he could be that much younger. “But that's not the point, is it, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Is there a point? Because as far as I can tell, you haven't made one.”

“It was a mistake to come here.”

“We can agree on that.” Funny, his hand wasn't on his saber anymore, and Maul's own was nowhere in sight. Clearly if he'd had it on him Obi-Wan would have seen it given his lack of discernible clothing. He'd been buried in clothing had he not? “Are you going to try to kill me again?”

“Am I going to--” He looked positively affronted, agitated, throwing his arms out and pacing across the sprinkling of coarse sand he had left on Obi-Wan's floor from his... servos. “How could you... How _dare_ you...” He stopped and spun around, turning on him suddenly. Obi-Wan was unfazed. “If I wanted it, you would already be dead.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” The other seemed to growl in response. How uncivilized. “The evidence just doesn't seem to back you up here, Maul.”

“ _Fine_. I _can't_ kill you... I can't even try.”

“Why not?”

“That doesn't matter!” He sat back down and returned to scratching at his prosthetics with a blunted screwdriver. “You should just be grateful... Unless you're going to kill me again?”

“Now why would I do that? Unless you plan to threaten me in my home... Again.”

“I just said I can't!”

Obi-Wan turned to Maul's... work. “Why don't you use the force for that?”

“I can't!”

Oh, how unexpected. Whatever magic had brought him back this time must have effectively neutered him. If he was telling the truth. But looking into the force himself, there didn't seem to be any signature there that would indicate Maul's power. Either he was hiding it very well, or he truly had no access to it as he claimed. “Then allow me.”

“Kenobi--!” He began to protest, but Obi-Wan had already started, calling upon the power around them to locate each individual grain of sand, pull them free, and banish them out of the house. Dealing with sand wasn't exactly uncommon on a planet like Tatooine, so it wasn't anything he had trouble with.

The former Sith Lord said nothing in response, and wouldn't meet his eyes. He was sulking, Obi-Wan realized. Well, it wasn't like he'd had the greatest longer-than-a-day either. He'd actually died, and by Obi-Wan's hand, so he supposed he was entitled to a bit of sulking. 

“I suppose this is farewell then?” Obi-Wan said, finding it odd his voice sounded sad. He shouldn't be sad. If anything he should be happy, with one less death on his hands of someone who could live and do no more harm, at least not any more than any other non-force sensitive criminal. But there was still a nostalgic melancholy that came with the final battle, the enemy from the past, from when he was someone so different from the man he was now.

But Maul looked shocked he would even suggest such a thing. “I'm not going anywhere, Kenobi. Do you know how long I've searched for you? After so many years believing you were dead?”

“I'd have thought you'd be happy to think I was dead.”

He got no reply to that. Perhaps Maul had just wanted to kill him himself. That sounded about right for the other man. But if he wasn't going to be able to kill him now, there would be no reason for him to want to stay. Unless he was still planning something.

“What then?” Obi-Wan continued. “Are you going to wait until I'm asleep and try to kill me then?” He didn't need to sound so calm. But he would die soon enough anyway. He'd been training to die for years. Death no longer held any fear, any sway over him. And it was clear to him now that Maul had no intention of going after Luke. He'd just wanted...

“I already told you I can't kill you.”

“Because you've lost your connection to the force but--” He wouldn't need the force if he was planning to kill him in his sleep.

“No. That's not why.” Then why? “One does not rebuke the spirits, one does not deceive them, one does not go against the contract that binds them. To disrespect the spirits, to dishonor their rules is tantamount to the gravest of sins, especially when one has been given a gift such as this...” He sounded oddly solemn, almost meditative. Reverent. Maul was a Nightbrother, from the same people Ventress had been. His experience, his relationship to the magic of spirits would be different to that of an average Sith. Whatever an 'average Sith' was.

“What contract binds you?” He couldn't help but ask.

“I shouldn't speak any more on that. But I can tell you this, Kenobi. You will come to no harm from me. Nor will you be getting rid of me. It is pertinent that I... Remain here.”

“And if I leave?” He may have just been being petulant at this point, but he couldn't say he didn't feel uneasy by the prospect of the Sith Lord, of Maul of all people, just deciding to move himself into his home. Without even asking permission. He should say no, just on the principle of it.

He should. But...

“If you leave then it would become pertinent for me to accompany you.” He didn't seem to put out by the idea. Obi-Wan would have thought he would've been.

“So... You have to stay with me, and you can't even try to kill me, and you have no access to the force, because of some contract you made with the spirits?”

“Yes, that is about the gist of it.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, despite himself, it was just too strange to contemplate. “And this is a gift for you? One would think someone in the 'Spirit World' is trying to torture you.”

Maul was silent. Huh, maybe he hadn't been too far off the mark then with that. Of course he hadn't meant it, but perhaps it was a theory that did hold some merit...

“No. I don't think that's it.” Maul was still sitting, despite having his functions fully restored beyond any further discomfort. He didn't move. Neither did Obi-Wan. “You haven't said I can't stay.”

He hadn't. That was true. What was the worst that could happen? That everything he'd said was a lie and Obi-Wan would be dead by morning? Then he'd go and kill Luke (he wouldn't kill Luke) and then go off and cause more death and destruction (no more death and destruction than he'd been causing the past seventeen years that Obi-Wan hadn't bothered to track him down for)?

“Anything past these stairs,” he gestured, “Is off limits. You can sleep on the pull-out. The refresher is through there...” Was there anything else? “Feel free to eat as many beans as you like.” He wouldn't bother hoping he wasn't making a terrible mistake, because he already knew he most definitely was. He just couldn't bring himself to care. He hadn't felt good when he'd... When he'd killed Maul. Maybe... Maybe it was him who was getting a second chance.

The only response he got from Maul was a short nod, and an almost inaudible grumble he couldn't make out. Then Maul shifted into a meditative position. Obi-Wan reached out in the force, but he still could not feel, could not detect Maul at all. So it seemed his meditation was not communing with the force. Maybe it was just something familiar.

“I'm going to bed.” He got no response. He took the stair to his own bed. He'd know by morning whether he was still alive. It was more of an interesting thing to ponder over than a question of life or death, even though it was literally a question of life or death.

He tried not to think about which outcome he'd prefer.


	2. More Awkward Than Anything

He woke up alive. That was something. Maul was still in the same meditative pose he had been the night before, or had it been earlier that morning? He didn't look like he'd moved at all and Obi-Wan had no trouble assuming that was the case.

“I did tell you that you could sleep on the pullout, Maul.”

Maul didn't flinch. Maybe he wasn't as cut off from the force as he wanted Obi-Wan to believe. Or maybe he'd just heard his footsteps on the stair and into the living room. He opened one eye, only just enough that Obi-Wan could see that iridescent yellow glow that marked him as a dark side user, before closing it again. Even cut off from the force, if he was, it seemed that his eyes didn't change. Hadn't gotten the message yet, he presumed. 

“I didn't realize that was an _order_ , Kenobi.”

“It wasn't.”

Even just going to the kitchen to appraise his food stock, he was hyper aware of the Sith Lord not too far away from him. It didn't quite make him nervous but it wasn't exactly making him comfortable either. It was awkward, but it wasn't like Obi-Wan could ask him if he'd mind going back to being dead, please, it'd be much easier to concentrate on breakfast that way.

He cast another look to the Sith Lord. Why hadn't he moved? Should he offer to make him breakfast? It would be the polite thing to do. Maul wasn't exactly his guest though. He was an uninvited visitor overstaying his non-existent welcome with only a poor excuse of 'the spirits told him to'.

“Should I put the eggs on for two then?”

Maul didn't respond, but he might have seen him twitch, just a bit.

“I'm going to put eggs on for two. And tea of course. Do you like tea, Maul?”

Nothing. Why insist on staying by his side if he was going to also insist on ignoring him. That must have gone against the spirit (pun intended) of his contract, if not the letter.

“Well I hope you do, because that's what you're getting.” He was a Jedi _Master_ he had no use for feelings like annoyance or worse, but he was on edge from the recent events that had led him to this point. So a bit of annoyance could be alright, but no more than that.

Cooking was easy, his diet never really strayed very far. There was only so much available year round on a planet like Tatooine, especially living outside of the major centers. He could do it on autopilot and his mind could wander. Or it could rest. Simple tasks were all he had now to distract himself, but even they weren't quite doing their job anymore.

“Do you believe in fate, Kenobi?”

The voice startled him, though it wasn't like he'd forgotten Maul was there. He just hadn't expected him to speak. Which, he realized, was an odd expectation to have in the long run. Maul loved to speak...

“Do I... I am a Jedi. I believe in the Jedi Code.” Hopefully Maul wouldn't be able to pick up on his hesitance. Of course he would, but he hoped nonetheless. Fate was a difficult topic. It wasn't fate that had brought the Jedi Order to its end, it was failure. Their failure. _His_ failure. And Anakin... For someone who was supposedly the chosen one, his ultimate fate would have seemed to disprove the notion of fate entirely. The Chosen One had become a Sith Lord. _And whose fault is that?_ But somehow he figured that wasn't what Maul was talking about.

“But fate... Do you believe the paths we walk are inevitable? Already planned for us? Predestined? You didn't choose to become a Jedi, no more than I chose to become a Sith. Is that not fate?”

Was this what Maul thought about when he was stuck being quiet? Of course, he had died hadn't he? He had been to the 'spirit world' and he had returned. What had he been told? What was the plan, the path that had been laid out before him?

“I don't know. You could choose not to be a Sith.” And Obi-Wan could choose not to be a Jedi. But he wouldn't.

“Haven't I already?” He made a sound akin to a mirthless laugh. “For a long time I was convinced... But that doesn't matter now. Surely though, my fate should have been to die here, slain by the hand of my most hated enemy after years of endless torment.” He was getting heated, but he paused. “And yet here I am.”

“And yet here you are.”

“And what do you think of that?” The Sith Lord... Former Sith Lord he reminded himself, wondering if that was really a meaningful distinction in this case, tilted his head. Questioning.

“I think that the tea is ready. You should sit with me.” His dining nook was not exactly large, but it would be more than enough for just the two of them.

“I am sitting, Kenobi.”

“With me.” He tried to remain firm.

“Is that an order?”

“Does it have to be?”

The other man stood up suddenly. Had he always been that tall or was that the prosthetics he wore. He wouldn't have been the only Sith Lord to add a few inches with prosthetics... but that thought made his heart clench and he didn't want to think about it. The way he walked, slinking in the shadows even when there were no shadows, could he ever not look like a predator waiting to strike?

Even just sitting down to breakfast.

He prodded at his eggs with his fork, not meeting Obi-Wan's eyes, still wearing a frown on his face. He ate slowly, cautiously.

“You do know I'm not trying to poison you with eggs, right?” Obi-Wan asked sardonically.

“Of course not.” He seemed to be biting back something more. “Clearly if you were going to poison something it would be the tea.”

“I would not--” Oh. Maul was biting back a _smile_. He'd been _joking_. With _Obi-Wan_. Interesting.

“And yes, Kenobi. To answer your question, I do like tea. It's soothing.”

“I wouldn't think you'd like anything that could be described as soothing.” Maul frowned into his tea cup. How frustratingly mercurial of him. “And to answer _your_ question, no. I don't believe in fate. I know that I should, looking after the chosen one, and a lot of the time... I very much want to. But I don't. I can't.” Not after what had happened. It would be too easy, to shift the blame from himself onto some predestined fate, but that was nothing but a cop out. “Do you?”

“No.” He answered very quickly, very curtly, still frowning. But his eyes looked different. Not the eyes themselves, they were still that awful yellow, red-rimmed Sith disaster. But he did look more thoughtful, contemplative. _Softer_.

If anything a softer Maul only made him more uncomfortable with the situation.

“I'm not going to thank you for feeding me, you know, Kenobi. As I am basically your _prisoner_.” An interesting interpretation of the facts. “It is the least you can do as an honourable Jedi Master.”

“Of course,” he observed dryly, “I expected nothing more.”

*

Things could not have gotten more awkward if he'd tried. Or at least that was what he had thought. Clearly if there was such a thing as fate, it was conspired against him until the very end.

“Kenobi!”

“Maul?”

Maul was absently twirling a lightsaber around in his hand. He should have felt threatened, but he only felt panic set in. That was Anakin's lightsaber. He'd found Anakin's lightsaber. Not that he'd know it was Anakin's saber.

“Maul could you please put that back where you found it?”

Maul raised his brow at him questioningly. Almost mockingly. That was familiar at least. “Please? Would I please? Are you afraid of me now? Do you think I'd attack you _now_? After deliberately calling out for you?”

Yes, most definitely he would, that was in fact the most likely course of action he would take if he were to attack him. If. But he wasn't, which just begged the question of why he had Anakin's saber out in the first place.

“Well, clearly you don't need two of these. And since you broke mine, I should keep this.”

That reasoning made no sense whatsoever. “You can't. Besides, you don't need a lightsaber.”

“How am I supposed to fight without a light saber?”

“You aren't.”

“But I have to stay by your side, don't I? ...Do you really not fight anymore, Kenobi?”

Fighting had never been something he wanted to do. He wasn't called the Negotiator for nothing. Fighting was something he had to do sometimes, something he was good at, and something he'd wished he didn't have to do.

He made a show of looking around, gesturing to the empty space around them. “Who is there to fight?”

Maul just looked at him incredulously. But he handed over the saber. If only Anakin had-- “Do you want me to make a list or...? 'Who is there to fight?' Come on, Kenobi, you don't expect me to believe you're perfectly alright with everything that's going on in the galaxy around you while you just sit here in exile feeling sorry for yourself. Perfectly fine with Sidious's Empire?”

“Of course not. It's more complicated than that and you know it.” He chided. “The Chosen One--”

“The Chosen One? Who? Didn't you already have a chosen one before? How did that turn out for you?” He was getting to close to something very raw, but Obi-Wan was above letting such things affect him, he had the force, he was a Jedi. “And besides, didn't you just tell me you didn't believe in fate?”

“It's complicated.” He repeated. Chosen One or not, Luke was Anakin's son, he had to stay here, protect him. _And ultimately fail him too, just like the Father. Send him off and watch him die_.

“It doesn't seem that complicated to me.” But instead of brokering further argument, Maul just spun around on his heel and went right back to his meditation. 

Obi-Wan didn't know whether he should classify that as a win or a loss or nothing at all. No, it was definitely not nothing at all. It was something, and that something was gnawing, try as he might to ignore it, on the corners of his mind. He'd never thought in a million years he'd be entertaining the idea of Maul being right about something. And yet...

“I'll be travelling some time in the next week. You're welcome to join me, if you'd like.”

“It isn't like I have much of a choice about that.” Maul muttered back.

Good. He could use some time to think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul is an emotional wreck so... nothing new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the italics are off, I don't know what's happening with the italics. I barely know basic html formatting and I apologize for it.

Kenobi, Kenobi, Kenobi... His house even smelled like him. Him and sand. He hadn't thought it possible, he didn't spend much time in people's homes. Now he didn't have much of a choice but to stay. He longed to leave, to wander, but even if he could the sand was hell on the metal of his joints and he'd like as not get lost in the endless desert expanse. It wouldn't be the first time. He had no speeder, no form of communication, he barely had the shirt on his back.

At least Kenobi said he'd take him out. Like some dog. Of course that was what Kenobi thought of him, just a rabid cur he'd had to put down for his own good. But he hadn't stayed put down...

No, he was alive now. As alive as he had been before, but almost as powerless as any given non-force sensitive. He still had his... spiritual connections, but any attempt to manifest his power in the physical realm was met with failure. Not that he had tried much.

For instance, he hadn't crept up the stairs to where Kenobi slept, alone and vulnerable. He certainly hadn't watched him there, thinking of all the ways he could kill him without the other man ever knowing he was there. He couldn't do that. He'd stayed put. _Obediently_.

It wouldn't be so bad if Kenobi hadn't seemed so unbothered by it all. Sure he'd been shocked at first and that had been fun (though no, it really hadn't), but now...

_You should talk to Obi-Wan._

So he had. It hadn't been terrible.

 _The box. You see it? You should look inside._

So he had. That could have gone better. Kenobi could be stuck alone in the middle of the desert all he wanted but Maul didn't want to be stuck alone in the middle of the desert with Kenobi. Maybe that should have been the way all along, maybe together they could finally...

_Listen to Obi-Wan._

Listen or obey? The directive wasn't clear enough on that and he wasn't going to ask for clarification--

_Listen._

\--In case the answer was that he had to obey.

But he could listen.

“Maul, I have chores to do.” Of course he had chores to do, what else was he going to do? “Would you like to help?”

He tried to think of things he'd rather be doing, but nothing came to mind. “I'll help.”

It wasn't fun but at least it wasn't nothing. He got to follow Kenobi around a bit (like a damn dog again), learning all about what needed to be done to survive on the desert planet. Apparently Kenobi was acquainted with some moisture farmers, something he'd known little about, but apparently there was a lot that went in to making this place livable, and being on his own, Kenobi had to do it all himself.

Or he had had to do it all himself. Now he had help. Maul didn't quite know how to feel about that. It wasn't like he wanted to help Kenobi specifically, but it wasn't unfulfilling either. It'd be nicer, he decided, if it felt more like Kenobi were _relying_ on him rather than _humoring_ him.

“Force, Kenobi, no wonder you don't fight. You're too busy with all these chores.”

“I'm not too busy.” There seemed to be something behind that statement, but Maul had neither the skill nor the inclination to pry further.

“Then maybe you can give me that saber and spar with me.” Why had he been lead to that saber, if Kenobi was going to just take it away and refuse to even talk about it, let alone do anything about it. If he'd had Kenobi all those years ago... but there was no use thinking on that now.

“I don't think that would be a good idea.” Kenobi declined gently. He couldn't blame him for his caution, not exactly. But this was _Kenobi_ , he should fight.

“Will you at least meditate with me then?”

Kenobi seemed to think about it for a moment. “Can you still meditate? If you've lost your connection to the force?”

“I haven't lost my connection to the force. Not... Spiritually. Just... physically. So yes. I can meditate.” He certainly did not roll his eyes at Kenobi, because that would be childish and unbecoming. “You have seen me meditating on more than one occasion now, have you not?” 

“I suppose. You could have just been sleeping. Sith are known to sleep in strange positions.” He hadn't been sleeping. Meditation was fine. Sleep was another story.

Maul was about to ask how many Sith Kenobi had known, but the fact was he'd probably known more than most people, even among the Jedi. 

He could have brought up Skywalker. It would certainly hurt Kenobi, he could certainly hurt Kenobi that way. He didn't. He tried not to waste any more time wondering why.

Instead he said, “My Grandmaster once went two decades without sleep. I may not be much for comfort but at least I _do_ sleep.” The truth at least.

Kenobi was silent for a moment, blinked. “Sleep can be difficult, especially when your dreams are...” He trailed off. Probably just realizing who he was talking to, “Perhaps I envy him that then, your Grandmaster.”

“I wouldn't envy him much. He's dead.”

“From lack of sleep?”

“From Sidious.” Darth Sidious... He was still out there. They should be out there, formulating a plot, something. He had _Kenobi_ for Force sake. Then again, Sidious had Skywalker too.

“Ah. Of course. Sith. Forgive me.” He didn't seem sorry though, he looked vaguely displeased. Disappointed? Disgusted? “I could never understand such... traditions among the Sith. Why anyone would... is beyond me.” He looked Maul over curiously. Maul frowned. Of course a Jedi would have such thoughts, wouldn't understand the complicated nature of the dark side. He'd been trained to turn away from darkness at any possibility of it, no matter what the cost may be. “Why did you join the Sith?”

If Maul was caught off guard by the question, he thought he'd done a fine job of hiding it. “Me?” He shrugged, vaguely. Kenobi's eyes were on him, blue and intense. Why were they so intense all of a sudden? Or was it just him? His own inability to meet Kenobi's eyes now, just because he'd asked such a question. “It wasn't like I had a choice.” After a moment of silence he added. “Is it not the same for you? You had no choice but to be a Jedi after they took you from your home and molded you into one of _them_.” He practically spat the last word. Jedi, always thinking they were better, when they absolutely weren't. Liars. All of them, only lies.

“I had a choice. The Jedi raised me, yes. Taught me their ways, taught me how to use my powers, to do good in the world. But I could have left. There were many times I had the opportunity...” Kenobi sighed, a wistful thing, gull of unspoken regret. It made him feel uneasy. “Maybe I should have left.”

“Ah, but then you wouldn't be General Kenobi. The Negotiator. War Hero. One of the last Jedi Masters in the Galaxy.”

“Exactly.”

He wanted to ask what Kenobi would have done instead, if he had taken one of his apparent opportunities to leave the Jedi Order behind. He would have asked it too, but the words wouldn't come. He could think them, but his mouth wouldn't form them, his throat refused to vocalize. 

“I suppose you can't leave the Sith quite so easily.”

“I... No. I was cast aside when my Master chose a new apprentice. One he'd decide was stronger, one who suited him better. I didn't choose to be a Sith. I didn't choose to leave. All of my choices were made for me, and I've been... Left behind.” But why was he telling Kenobi this? Sure he wasn't too shy about blathering on about his entire life story to near strangers, but they weren't Kenobi. He didn't want Kenobi to pity him. He would hate for Kenobi to pity him.

He looked into Kenobi's eyes again, He pitied him. Just great.

“It has made me strong.” He added, belatedly. “Tough lessons to learn, but necessary ones.”

“I don't think...” But then Kenobi shook his head. “I should really get this done. I'll only be a while to finish this up. Perhaps you could go inside and put some beans on for dinner.”

Maul scowled, more at the brush off than at the request. “I had beans last night.”

“I didn't. Besides, you know we don't have a lot of variety.”

We. We? _We._ Why was Kenobi like that? He hated him. He loathed him. He couldn't even... “All the more reason for us to go into town sooner rather than later.”

Kenobi frowned. “Not tonight.”

Maul skulked off back to the house. He'd do as Kenobi said, and he'd make the best damn beans. Kenobi wouldn't know what had hit him.

*

He'd burned the beans.

“How do you manage to burn beans?” Despite the singed aftertaste of their sparse dinner, Kenobi seemed to be in more or less good humor. 

“Its not like I'm a chef. Besides, they're beans. How good could they have been?”

It shouldn't have been easy to talk to Kenobi, but it was easier than not talking to him and just eating his beans in silence. He didn't like silence. 

“We can go in the morning, before it gets too hot.”

“To Mos Eisley?”

Kenobi sighed. “Don't make me regret it.”

“I don't plan to.” But plans could always change. There were probably a myriad of ways to make Kenobi regret taking him into town, but then he wouldn't get the chance to go again. He was wrong before, comparing himself to a dog. He was more of a misbehaved child, with a father chiding him not to lose his store privileges.

At least he wasn't blasting him with force lightning. Kenobi might have made a good father, he thought. If he hadn't been a Jedi. Not that he knew much about that, and besides he was a nightbrother. Fatherhood wasn't really a thing on Dathomir. How could he even say what a good father would be like? Maybe with Ezra he'd have--

“You're quiet. Are you scheming something?”

"No.” He replied quickly, though he really hadn't been. But his thoughts had been getting the better of him. Had Ezra made it back to the other Rebels safely? Other spiritual connections aside he couldn't feel his bond with the boy anymore. It didn't mean anything bad per se, but still it managed to worry him. “Now why would you think that?”

Kenobi just gave him a look from across the table. One that said 'I am not amused but also, secretly, I am amused.'

It was too much. He couldn't explain why, but it was. He shot up from the table, quickly surveying his surroundings. His space in the living room with the pullout was too close, Kenobi's room too off-limits, outside too hot and covered in damned abrasive sand. So... He chose the refresher, hoping it had a locking door. Was he allowed to lock the door? He did it anyway, not knowing if an answer would have even stopped him. 

He could still hear Kenobi, cleaning up after their dinner. What must he have been thinking? But he couldn't face him, maybe he never should have in the first place.

_”I don't want to be beholden to Kenobi anymore.”_

_It's only been a day, child._

_“And already I can't take it. I can't.”_

_But you did. You left. Did he try to stop you?_

_“No.”_

_He let you go?_

_“Yes.”_

_And that's what you needed?_

_“I need...” _What did he need? Nothing much really. Even dying hadn't been that bad. Maybe needs weren't a high priority._ _

__

__

_...Go with him to Mos Eisley tomorrow, that's all I can tell you_

Damn Jedi, never could talk straight could they? 

_You can have patience for one night, Maul._

_“Don't lecture me on patience, old man. I am the epitome of patient.”_

_Just remember to keep an eye out, and keep an ear out. My old padawan can't handle everything..._

He wanted to add some snide comment about Kenobi not being able to handle much of anything these days, but he did not. His mind was still racing. He could do some meditation to calm down, but that would bring silence, and silence would bring dreams and he didn't want that. 

_I can make you dream something nice?_

_“Something nice is even worse,_ Master Jinn _because then its gone when I awake._

There was a knock on the door. He might have been in there a while. 

____“Now I don't mean to be rude, Maul, but this house does only have one refresher and I do need--”_ _ _ _

____He opened the door. “Kenobi.” Like nothing had happened. Nothing had to have happened. He was just relaxing in the refresher for... He looked at the chronometer. Ah. Two hours and twenty minutes. Had it really been that long? Clearly it had because when he looked outside the twin suns had already set. They really were in a shell of a house surrounded by darkness and sand. Nothing new there at least. Not since the last time he'd been surrounded by darkness and sand._ _ _ _

____“Maul.” It was Kenobi. Of course it was Kenobi, who else would it be? “Do you want to talk?” It was the worst thing he could have said. Maul did not want to talk. Well, maybe he did, but also he definitely did not._ _ _ _

____“What I want is to get out of this place!”_ _ _ _

____“I'm not the one keeping you here.” As much as he hated it, Kenobi was right. Kenobi didn't want him trapped here, didn't want to be trapped with him. Kenobi had wanted him dead, and he'd screwed it all up by not staying dead. In his mind at least. “Besides, I already told you we would be.”_ _ _ _

____“Then I suppose I will see you in the morning.”_ _ _ _

____“Will you be up?”_ _ _ _

____“Oh. I'll be up.”_ _ _ _

____Kenobi looked at him, as if searching his face for something. Whatever it was it seemed he hadn't found it, because he turned around still with a frown on his face as he left the room. It didn't matter._ _ _ _

____He still didn't much want to sleep, but sleep he did._ _ _ _


End file.
